


Sunday Scully

by Edie_Rone



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, MSR, Original Series, Sunday with Scully, UST, carter never cared about the timeline so why should I, i just want them to have a nice time ok, mulder being a total stalkerazzi because he's a sad puppy and she's his human, risotto, somewhere ... s3-5-ish?, they deserve a nice afternoon together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 07:17:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20354542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edie_Rone/pseuds/Edie_Rone
Summary: he almost tells her he loves her while she’s measuring the sherry, but then her eyes are too blue and he loses his nerve and makes a joke instead





	Sunday Scully

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by @flurgburgler 's Casual-Scully doodle: https://flurgburgler.tumblr.com/post/157253904808/i-doodle-when-im-nervous

She ran into Mulder like this – well, OK, he made it look like an accidental run-in but he’d been at the coffee place across from the fancy grocery store for an hour, watching the door, because she’d casually mentioned when they got in from Seattle yesterday afternoon that she might be in the mood to make something today from the cookbook somebody’d given her years ago.

He gets the arborio rice from the top shelf for her, picks up some shallots while she’s selecting mushrooms _one. at. a. time_, waits with her while they grate a half cup of fresh parm at the cheese case, leaves her to contemplate the olive oils while he slips off to get a very nice bottle of wine (he’s not telling her *how* nice, or she’ll say it’s too much and he should put it back, but he wants her to have this and he can afford it so never mind what she doesn’t see).

Of course by this time he’s wrangled an invitation to dinner, which he turns into just going back to her place right now to help with the cooking, and he almost tells her he loves her while she’s measuring the sherry for this recipe with scientific precision, but then she looks up from the measuring cup and her eyes are so blue, he loses his nerve and makes a joke instead and she laughs and that’s pretty good too.

The conversation flows easily, the risotto cooks perfectly, the wine is fantastic, the chocolate mousse he’d hidden under the salad greens is heavenly. Around nine o’clock he feels he ought to leave, though it’s the last thing in the world he wants. So he helps her clean up the kitchen, and lets her walk him to the door.

His hand brushes hers and he wants more than anything to take hold of it and pull her to him but the time isn’t quite right yet – not quite yet.

In the doorway, he tells her he was in fact lying in wait for her, earlier; with the loveliest smile she says she knows, she saw him on her way in. "Next time, why don’t we just go together, save the stealth for tracking the bad guys?" she adds, with a too-casual shrug.

"There’s a next time?" he asks, his heart warmed all the way through, a glow in the center of his chest that he’s surprised isn’t showing through his shirt.

"Well, next time we’re home on a Sunday," she answers, both of them knowing how rare a completely free Sunday in the DC is, given their particular line of work and the fact that crime doesn’t take weekends off.

"OK, yeah, yes," he says with a smile that almost splits his face in two; he’s used to making up or stretching out their assignments to cover at least some part of his two most-dreaded days of the week, the Scully-free ones, but now he’s going to make sure that happens a lot less. Her soft “Good night, Mulder,” is as sweet as a kiss and he knows he’ll carry it with him all week long.

This was the best Sunday of his life.


End file.
